Episode 93: Securing Our Home with New Guardians

"The compound is well taken care of and fully guarded, Sir," Security-Bot 01 reported as it patrolled the perimeter of our base.

Watching the sleek, humanoid Automaton move with precision gave me a newfound sense of security. Knowing that our small base was now protected and actively manned by our own robotic force was both reassuring and thrilling. I can proudly say that the base right now is much more well-guarded than any town and settlement that I have visited before.

As we arrived back at our home, Alfred and Layla immediately got to work, leading the efforts to reactivate the Automatons we had acquired from CLUB MED. Alongside them, Selene focused on assessing and restoring the damaged units, prioritizing those that could still be salvaged.

Selene wiped her hands clean on a rag before turning to me. "We should definitely attempt to repair the damaged units first, especially the Nurse and Doctor-Bots."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be easier to just use the new ones?"

Alfred chimed in, adjusting his metallic fingers as he worked on the circuits of a deactivated unit. "These damaged Automatons have been online for years, possibly even decades. That means they carry stored memories and experiences from their service. It makes them far superior in skill compared to fresh units straight out of the box."

I leaned against a nearby workbench, contemplating his words. "That makes sense. It's like an experienced surgeon compared to a fresh medical graduate, right?"

Selene nodded as she continued fine-tuning the interface of a dormant Doc-Bot. "Exactly. The longer an Automaton stays active, the more skilled it becomes. The pre-installed knowledge on new units is useful, but it doesn't compare to years of hands-on experience."

"Got it," I said, watching as Layla and Alfred synchronized their efforts, reconnecting circuits and replacing broken components on a particularly battered Nurse-Bot. "So, the goal is to get these older units back to peak condition while integrating the new ones to assist where necessary."

Selene smiled, clearly pleased that I understood. "Precisely."

As the restoration continued, an eerie realization settled over us. Many of the damaged Doc and Nurse-Bots had been operational during the fall of CLUB MED. Their last recorded activities dated back to the hospital's final hours, when the entire facility had been overrun by zombies.

Selene ran a hand along the metallic casing of a Nurse-Bot, her voice soft. "Some of these units tried to continue their work even as the chaos unfolded. They cared for infected patients, treating them as if they could still be saved. But they didn't know the truth… that the zombies were beyond saving."

I exhaled slowly, taking in her words. "They tried to help… even as their patients became monsters. That's both tragic and admirable."

Alfred, ever logical, added, "It speaks to their programming—to heal and protect life. Even in the face of the apocalypse, they upheld their directives."

Layla nodded. "Some of them weren't even destroyed by the zombies. They simply powered down after exhausting their energy reserves, unable to recharge themselves."

I crossed my arms, looking at the once-dormant machines in a new light. These weren't just tools; they were remnants of a world that once thrived. And now, they were part of our future.

Selene dusted off her hands and stretched. "Well, let's give them a second chance."

I nodded firmly. "Yeah. Let's bring them back."

With that, the work continued, breathing new life into the machines that once stood as silent witnesses to the world's downfall. And in doing so, we took yet another step toward shaping our own future in this unforgiving wasteland.

Two days had passed since we returned to our base, and during that time, Alfred, Selene, and Layla had been hard at work restoring the Automatons. Their top priority was ensuring that any Automaton responsible for touching me—especially during my surgery—was in peak condition. They wanted only the best working on me, guaranteeing that I would come out of the procedure alive and well.

While they were busy with the Automatons, Natasha and Scarlett had taken charge of transforming the third room into a fully functional hospital ward. Using the medical equipment we had salvaged from CLUB MED, they methodically set up the space, making sure it was clean, sterile, and equipped with everything necessary for my upcoming operation.

And me? Well, I had nothing much to do. Everyone had ordered me to relax and take it easy until the surgery.

So, with time on my hands, I decided to lounge on the rooftop and indulge in some social media entertainment. I snapped a picture of Security-Bot 01 patrolling the perimeter and uploaded it to Stargram with a cheeky grin.

"Hehehe… title: 'Got myself a new Automaton,'" I muttered as I typed the caption. The moment the post went live, my notifications exploded. My followers went absolutely ballistic.

Comments flooded in instantly.

"-Dude, where do you even get these things?!"

"-This role-playing is getting out of hand!"

"-Bro, are you secretly living in some sci-fi movie?!"

"-Really love this guy~ keep it up man~"

I laughed, scrolling through the reactions. My followers weren't your average social media users. Many of them were professionals in their respective fields—surgeons, engineers, software developers, and master craftsmen. For example, @JohnTempleEvil was a specialist surgeon, @LukeX69 was a software developer, and @HardwooD was an expert craftsman. All of them, like me, were hardcore hobbyists obsessed with their respective fields.

Then, one comment in particular caught my attention.

@JohnTempleEvil: "Oh yeah, you better treat your leg fast. The longer you wait, the slimmer the chances of correcting it. @Azra, come to my hospital, and I'll do it for you."

I smirked, quickly typing out a reply.

"Thanks, man. About to get it fixed soon. Appreciate the concern!"

As I leaned back, watching the comment section explode into debates about medical procedures and prosthetic advancements, I couldn't help but chuckle. Even in a post-apocalyptic world, social media never failed to entertain.